Can one be normally ill, or normal while being ill? What is normal neurosis,
or ãnormosisä? Do there exist some beings who have approached
some kind of psychological perfection? If so, wishing to evaluate them
according to an average reference, is like wishing to judge them according
to the ãsanityä of the most insane. Does acknowledging the
existence of such liberated beings, not mean succumbing to compensatory
delirium? On the other hand, denying their existence would mean being carried
away by the depression of a society tired of its own consumerism, would
it not? In the supposedly exhaustive American classification of mental
illnesses (DSM III), all psychic ailments except ãnormosisä
have been enumerated. This, however, seems to me to be most prevalent ailment,
which it would be useful to discuss; I would in fact, be inclined to give
it first place in the classification. The fundamental difference between
the traditional psychology so deep-rooted in the east, and modern psychology,
is that the latter is based on pathology, and has the fixed goal of a return
to normalcy, that is, in practice, a return to the average; traditional
psychology is founded on the idea of the evolution of the human being,
leading to the perfect being, known by different names according to the
different traditions : ÎA1 insan al kamilâ in Sufism, Îjivan
miktaâ (free being) in Hinduism, Îpratyeka-buddha, Îarhatâ,
Îbodhisattvaâ in Buddhism, Îthe saintâ in Christianity,
the Îtsaddikâ.in Judaism. This difference between psychology
and traditional thinking is not just in principle; it has important practical
consequences as well, some of which we shall see in course of this book.

My starting hypothesis is, that there is at least as much difference
between a normal subject and ãthe perfect humanä (as defined
in different traditions), as there is between a pathological subject and
a normal one. The idea is not new; the adage of Saint Paul, ãThe
wisdom of this world is but foolishness before Godä, (ICor. 3-19)
had inspired generations of Christians, and helped them to liberate themselves
from the excessively constricting norms of the society in which they lived,
whether Jewish, Roman, medieval or modern.

Some psychotherapists have the tendency to consider the diverse spiritual
paths as a kind of cultural frenzy of under-developed countries which cannot
resist the progress of heavy industry, electrification of villages, television,
automatic weapons etc. and which will subside gradually... Recent events
like the liberalisation of the countries of the East, the flowering of
new religions in North America, the resurgence of Islam, Hinduisation of
Indian politics, do not seem to point in this direction, however. If one
is willing to rid oneself of the ethnocentrism of Western psychology, one
realizes that according to traditional psychology, everyone is in a state
of suffering, a little more or a little less, depending on the circumstances.
Only the ãfree beingä(jivan-mukta) is exempt from this suffering.

Looked at from this angle, one can thus speak of the ãpsycho-pathology
of daily lifeä of the supposedly normal subjects. But it is not just
a question of interpreting (as Freud did) some small signs, whether lapses
or miscarried acts, as being indicative of underlying conflicts. I want
to show that, from the point of view of an advanced Yogi, for example,
the usual life-style is considered globally pathological. The question
then arises, whether such Yogis exist outside the realm of the imagination
of idealists and the mythical descriptions of ancient texts. After twelve
years of work in this field, my answer is ãYesä. I have met
some of these yogis; of course, one must seek them, there are few chances
to meet them at street-corners or at the Tourist Lodge. Everything leads
me to believe that there are many others, working quietly with their disciples,
who will doubtless remain unknown. Such beings also probably also exist
in the West, but they are more hidden because the circumstances are not
as favorable: the materialistic society and outlook, the psychotherapeutic
institutions with their clients which impose their views of normality,
the churches with their followers, all this does not create a climate of
tolerance and encouragement for those whom one could call ãindependent
mysticsä. Besides, the absence of a tradition transmitted from teacher
to disciple means that these Western mystics have less self-confidence
than they would have had in the East.

Schizophrenia in daily life

One of the characteristics of schizophrenia is a disturbance in the
flow of thought, which one calls ãdiffluenceä. Instead of following
an idea, thought moves by a process of association, as in the state of
dreaming, with blockages called ãBarragesä occurring from time
to time. According to Yoga, this forms part of the functioning of the mind
of even an ordinary person; the aim of the practice of Yoga is to develop
a capacity for concentration that is more and more complete (Îekagrataâ,
Îdharanaâ and Îdhyanaâ), in order to counter-balance
this dispersion. This tendency of the mind to make associations which are,
for the greater part, none too interesting, is due to a state of permanent
subexcitation which evokes hypomania, of which we will speak later.

In the beginning of schizophrenia, patients sleep little, and spend
hours with troubled dreams (clinophilia). They are in a state of day-dreaming.
Compared to the Yogi, the ordinary person is also in a similar state. Like
the dreamer, the latter by instinctive and affective conditioning than
by a controlled and consciously chosen path. There is as much distance
between the state of dreaming and the state of waking as there is between
the later and the absolute state, the state of Awakening. It may be mentioned,
that there lies the difficulty of real Awakening, and of the methods of
preparing for it. While dreaming that he is awake,can one really come out
of his dream?

In order to organize these ideas, one can distinguish five levels, five
different ways of thinking that are less and less diffluent. This classification
corresponds to that of psychiatric ailments according to levels of destructuration
of consciousness proposed by the French psychiatrist Henri Ey, but is also
includes therapeutic methods and meditation :

1) The state of dreaming, with associations which are completely free
fo conscious interference, that is, completely dependent on unconscious
mechanisms.

2) The state of clinophilia as in the case of the schizoid on his bed,
sometimes for ten hours a day, which progressively slides towards a state
of delirium.

3) The state of the ordinary subject, concentrated when he is in front
of his computer or when he is counting his money, but diffluent when he
is not focused on a specific task.

4) The state of therapy, as in relaxation, psychoanalysis or day-dreaming
which are practiced with the subject in a lying position, where the diffluence
is, in a way, re-centred around the presence of the therapist himself,
and around his words.

5) The state of meditation, where one takes hold of a leading thread
: simple repetitive formula, observation of breathing, of the right posture
etc; one ãwatches this thread with a focused vision, and, at the
same time, one ãseesä the mind with a peripheral vision. The
great advantage of this method is, that the mental phenomena are observed
in their natural state, and do not assume greater importance than they
actually have, unlike therapy, wherein one focuses on the problems as such.
The mind is, in fact, a very peculiar substance, which automatically ãinflates
itselfä if it is watched for a little while.

Another characteristic of the schizophrenic is that he does not inhabit
his body, and he sometimes goes to the extent of feeling that it is dead,
anaesthesized, petrified. At his level, whenever the ordinary subject undertakes
any bodily work, he notices that he has a number of zones that are dead,
numb and unconscious, and that his physical body is far from being fully
inhabited. The Hatha-Yoga and meditation represent a constant return to
the body. Like a child, the sage is very close to his body.

The feelings of the schizophrenic are governed by ambivalence, rapidly
going from one extreme to the other, from love to hate, from fusion to
anger. His emotions change as quickly as those of a child, but, unfortunately,
with added bitterness and marked destructively at the core.

If, in daily life, one observes oneâs own mind, even for a short
while, one notices the same sudden variations of affects, the same sudden,
continuous changes. Educational conditioning and life in society, only
lead us to soften the ãsharp anglesä and to cover everything
with a veneer of equanimity which is more or less depressive. The outward
evolution of emotions is like a sinusoid, close to the mean, but the interior
is quite different, resembling, rather, a jagged line. Here too, meditation
acts on the elementary variations of mood : first one becomes conscious
of them, then one dissociates oneself from them, and finally, one calms
them completely; all of this, however, does not prevent the play of emotions
necessary to current relationships, just as a marble made of transparent
glass momentarily takes on the colours of the surfaces over which it rolls.

The hypomania of the consumer-protection against existential depression.

The frustrations of life, which end in that great frustration, death,
which deprives us of life itself, lead to depression if one is incapable
of ãwork of mourningä, if one cannot let go of oneâs
hold. In order to undertake this ãwork of mourningä, however,
one must face oneâs frustrations directly, a task which no one finds
very pleasurable. One usually prefers to cover up this sorrow with a permanent
subexcitation (hypomania), an avidity of consumption whether material,
affective, or even intellectual or cultural. This kind of activism is as
ineffective in relieving suffering, as the sounds of a drum are in covering-up
the cries of patients who are having their teeth pulled out....

From a medical point of view, it has been proven, that people who lived
with their radio or television sets constantly switched on, got used to
a high level of adrenalin (hormone of stress), and that they became depressed
when they found themselves surrounded by silence. Generally speaking, man
has need of the noise of hypomanic excitation to cover up his existential
depression. Since in the current Western psychological system there is
hardly any method to ward off existential depression, one merely pampers
reality, and calls chronic hypomania, ãnormal lifeä. The first
truth enumerated by the Buddha is, ãThere is sufferingä,it
is also the starting point of most Indian philosophies. In the beginning,
I thought that it was a truism; then I realized that it was, in fact, important
to begin from this point : the mind has so many methods and ruses to avoid
looking at suffering, to escape from that which frightens it, that it is
necessary to lead it back to the suffering. Both Eastern and Western psychologists
agree on this point. To have a chance of curing suffering, it has first
to be looked at. To bury ones head in the sand like an ostrich surely will
not help.

India is sometimes reproached with being a depressive culture because
of the importance it attaches to renunciation. But for a Yogi, it is the
Western culture, with its psychology, which has a depressive core, Freud
compares the self to the ring of Magdeburg, with an empty center around
which are balanced the forces of the unconscious, just like the horses
which try to pull the ring, each in its own direction. Janov says that
the core of Being is suffering.......not a particularly joyful vision!
Although the Buddhists speak of vacuity, this vacuity is not a void, because
it is closely associated with Pure Light, Bliss and Compassion. In Hinduism,
the substance of the universe and of the individual is ãsatchitanandaä,
being - consciousness - blissä. As a beginner it does not make much
of a difference, but as someone undertakes some practice over a long period,
he perceives a widening gap between the two orientations as he progresses;
the disappointment at the base of one and the happiness at the base of
the other become more and more palpable.

A Zen story, relating to this difference of perspective, seems significant
- A monk saw a famous teacher coming and said to him, ãI am subject
to anger. How can I avoid it?ä The teacher replied, ãShow me
the anger, immediately.ä

The monk was silent. ãYou cannot show me your anger immediately
because that isn't your real natureä, remarked the teacher. To a beginner,
this story does not mean much, but to someone who meditates in a sustained
manner, moving form an obsession with anger, to a meditation on his real
nature, represents a fundamental change in orientation.

What is the real ãworking of mourningä? It is a clear understanding
that the frustration felt on the loss of an external object, does not have
to be. Happiness is felt internally each time, it is only by habit that
it is falsely associated with external objects, an association which leads
to innumerable complications. Once this is understood, one lets go, often
without effort; of course, sometimes there is a habit to overcome, as in
the case of smoking, for example. One can be intellectually conscious that
something does not do one any good, yet, it needs some effort to let it
go. The crucial point, however, is to have a clear understanding.

Yoga seeks to silence the mind. If one can really calm and ãswitch
offä the mind at will, one solves the very notion of sorrow, because
the past does not try to return again. Some may think that the process
of silencing the mind is boring and useless. The notion of ãmental
silenceä could evoke fear of death or madness like catatonia (a type
of schizophrenia in which the mind is ãfrozenä, the body, petrified,
and nothing moves for weeks). However, even people who have never heard
of Yoga can immediately gras the utility of this silence, as, for example,
the Western lady who saw a Yogi, whom I knew, for the first time, and who
asked him, ãWhat do you keep thinking of, the whole day?ä The
Yogi answered, ãGood question! I just try not to thinkä. The
lady immediately exclaimed, ÎIf only I had known how to do that when
I lost my husband!ä

Western rationalism rests on the postulate of Descartes: ãI think,
therefore, I am.ä For a Yogi, however, this does not hold true, it
is contradictory from the outset. He realizes very well that he experiences
a fuller, more pure sense of being, without any adding, when he does not
think. He is what he is, and nothing more. It was in this sense that Ramana
Maharishi must have said, ãTo think is not the true nature of man.ä
It is a function, like the natural functions of the body which has its
utility at its own level. Besides, when one observes oneself closely, one
realizes that thought is often automatic, that it functions for itself,
without any precise objective, that one ãthinks without thinking
about itä, if it can be put that way.

Paranoia-animaland human

For a long time there has been discussion, especially in the Lacan School,
about the boundaries between paranoid personality and delirium; but to
me, every personality is paranoid, even the animal, which does not seem
to have a personality, is paranoid in-as-much as he quickly feels persecuted.
The basis of paranoia is biological : it is the instinct of self-preservation.
The outside world is a priori perceived as being hostile; the isolated
animal in nature, reacts to the slightest unusual sound. One has to be
a sage like Ramana Maharishi to completely master this animal paranoia
: one day when he was resting in his cave, one of his companions entered
and saw a snake lying on his chest. when the snake had gone away, he asked
the Maharishi, ãDidnât you feel the snake?ä What did
it feel like?ä ãIt was coldä, was his only response.

In present-day Western societies, people have greatly exaggerated this
projection of fear of the external. The culture of the Bible, it must be
said, encourages this paranoid tendency. Ever since Abraham, the Jews formed
a small group which fought to survive amidst powerful neighbors. The Psalms,
the prophets, the Lamentations of Jeremiah, are all pervaded with either
a diffused or an explicit sentiment of persecution. This sentiment was
passed into the Church; Christ and the apostles were killed, and their
successors persecuted; and the institution, when it came to power, began
to persecute the heretics, following the sad psychological logic of the
persecuted who becomes the persecutor. The Koran, faithful to Biblical
tradition, abounds with ideas of persecution, curiously mixed with sublime,
mystical truths. All religions have their weak point; the paranoid tendency
is one of them in the religions of the Book.

All this seems quite strange to Hindus, who have always been in majority
in their country. Here, one often encounters people who are capable of
talking about their spiritual experiences directly, without projecting
their inner tensions in a paranoid manner on the religious system at large.
Whenever I return to France, I find that the discussions of people who
call themselves religious, are rather political in the broader sense of
the term. They obliterate their inner experience, in order to exist mainly
for the collective and to recount what they would have done if they had
been the Pope, something that obviously does not change much of the reality
of the world. This curious malady which consists of a constant projection
of intimate fears and desires to the exterior, is supported and in fact
augmented, by the media. The people excuse themselves saying that they
wish to be answerable to each other, but when one watches them closely,
one notices that they not move from their armchairs, that they do nothing,
often not even donating a penny. At the most, they speak about it, and
as a concrete result they have escaped once more from their inner reality.

Hysteria and the need for attention

Anaclitism is a basic symptom of hysteria; it is the irrepressible desire
to be with someone, whatever the complications involved. This attachment,
this need for attention is natural in children; it facilitates a balanced
development. In adults, it leads them astray taking varied and multiple
forms. In India, demanding attention carries less culpability than in the
West. For those who follow the spiritual path this demand is concentrated
on the Guru, instead of being dispersed on various persons at one time.
If the different attachments are like a hard drug, the attachment to the
guru is like a medication which resembles the drug without having its side-effects
and without giving rise to a dependence on it : one can thus be de-toxified.
From the beginning, the disciple considers the guru, not as a person, but
as a Îpowerful impersonalityâ, to take the title of an English
book on Ramana Maharishi.

Another characteristic sign of hysteria is 'theatricality'. The subject
plays a part and believes in it; he is not a liar, rather, he has been
overtaken by his own play-acting. Viewed from this angle as well, ordinary
man is hysterical in the eyes of the Yogi, who insists that the world is
a stage, and that we must not identify ourselves with the roles that society
or family have us play. We have to take heed of the fact that we are only
actors, whether dressed as a king or a pauper. Internally, someone who
follows the spiritual path, does not have to worry about being like others,
or about remaining within statistical and spychological norms. He is completely
cured of this hysterical suggestibility which afflicts ordinary man and
which pushes him to behave and be like everyone else. In support of this
in an answer from a Sufi in the Middle East :

Worldly people saw a Sufi saint, and asked him, ãWhy arenât
you like us?ä to which the Sufi replied. ãI am quite happy
not to be like you, and I pray more and more to God so that I become less
and less like you !ä

The hysterical person has a strong tendency to manipulate others; among
normal people too, as soon as an affective relationship is established,
there is a tendency towards reciprocal manipulation. Only the sage having
attained the supreme state, called ãkaivalyaä (solitude) in
certain schools of Hinduism, can claim to be beyond all affective manipulation.
The oral tendency is also present in everyone, but in a more marked manner
among hysterical persons. The usual traditional disciplines lead to a reduction
of this tendency, and thus to ãburningä of the germs of hysteria
within ordinary man, so that they cannot develop.

In hysteria there is often mention of the body being experienced as
more erotic to explain the theatrical fits and the somatic conversions.
In fact, everyone has an eroticised body, the difference between people
only being a question of degree. As long as this body finds what it is
looking for, there is hardly any problem. When suffering or frustration
set in, however, there is a state of utter confusion and the malady occupies
the entire field of one's consciousness. If Yoga advises 'disidentification'
from the body, it is to avoid problems of this nature, so that the mind
is not trapped by suffering whether great or little. A Yogi told me, how,
at one time, he had had de-mineralised teeth. He had to have twenty-four
of them extracted, one after another, with a gap of a few days in between,
without anaesthesia. At the beginning he was in great pain, but afterwards
he was able to regard his pain as something outside hinmself. By creating
a void in his mind, and by avoiding making elaborations of his physical
pain, mentally the latter remained minimal.

Obssessive rigidity and ego-consciousness

Indian tradition questions the reality of the small self : this is the
gist of the practices of Buddhism and of the Yoga of Knowledge (Jnana);
as long as there is an identification of consciousness with ego, there
remains a rigidity, a resistance to the experience of the absolute. If
the majority of people, including and especially Western psychotherapists,
resist this notion of disidentification from the ego, of the possibility
of an existence without ego, it is in order to attempt to stem the tide
of schizophrenic anguish, and, in a more fundamental manner, the fear of
death. Traditional practice leads one to confront these fears and to go
beyond them.

Ordinary therapists can think only of the pathological case of the dissolution
of ego, in patients who have hardly any knowledge of, or control over,
their minds. For a sage, ãputting onä his ego when circumstances
of daily life so demand, and then abandoning it soon afterwards, ãputting
it away on a hangerä as it were, like a garment which is only used
when going out, is not a problem. Moreover, the tendency towards obsessive
rigidity is more pronounced in the people of the West today. Among the
causes responsible for this can be mentioned early anal education, competitiveness
right from the kindergarten level, emphasis on analytical thinking, which
is classificatory and rigid as opposed to imaginary thinking, the value
attached to the assertion of self in a group etc. In this context, psychoanalysis
or meditation, i.e. observing internal phenomena, can bring about a much-needed
relaxation. In the life of a person with Înormosisâ, the series
of identical behaviors are repeated although the circumstances change.
This is what is called a repetition compulsion which is at its height in
obsessive neurosis. The name is recent, but the phenomenon has been known
for a long time; the psalmist refers to it, when he says. ãIn circuitu
impii ambulanä, 'the impious keep turning round and round '(Ps. 11-9
version of the Vulgate).

A Yogi will consider as pathological the very situation seen to be not
only normal, but also curative in the West : the psychotherapeutic relationship
often deviates into a kind of voyeuristic relationship: the patient does
his ãpsychological striptease,ä the therapist watches and listens
with pleasure, both are satisfied and in addition, money changes hands;
each one finds his interest in it, and so the system continues; but that
does not mean that is this healthy or evolutive or liberating. There are
of course some healthy reasons for undertaking psychotherapy, and others
that are less so. Amongst the latter, the deviation of the voyeuristic
kind seems to be more widespread than usually thought. It took me several
years in India, with Yogis, to realize this fact, and to see that the psychological
reserve they had towards their disciples, in no way detracted their efficacy
in the long-run. Of course I know that the Western therapeutic relationship
was born as a reaction to the puritanical milieu of family and society,
in which it was held as essential, above all, that no one talked about
many things which everyone thought about. Some therapists, however, go
to the extreme. The level of the patient should be considered. Quite often
the patient needs to be helped step by step, like the victim of an accident
who needs to be taught to walk again. But I only want to suggest that the
therapeutic relationship is sometimes not as normal or helping as it appears.

To end for good with the idea of ãnormalityä

The real disease of someone with ãnormosisä is the absence
of a desire for evolution. The first task of the guru is to awaken and
reinforce this desire; in this context, Jesus said, ãI have a food
to eat you do not knowä. (Jn. IV, 32). If one seeks perfect normality
according to purely psychological criteria, one runs the risk of entering
into an indefinite game of vacillating between opposing tendencies : one
is labeled too expansive and hysterical, then one becomes reserved and
obsessive. If one is not an aggressive paranoid, one finds oneself to be
a distant schizoid, and so on. One finds it difficult to move away from
these pairs of opposites. Which is why there is wisdom in the Oriental
methods which aim at directly calming the mind in order to end this incessant
swinging so that one goes ãbeyond these pairs of oppositesä
(dvandatita).

Even in the short term there are instances where the psychotherapist
does not serve much of a purpose, as for example, when an individual is
suddenly confronted with his destiny : there is the case of a 50 year-old
lady, living all alone, whose eldest son suffered from delirium and finally
hung himself. She turned towards religion and service of others, and this
helped her more than psychotherapy which would most probably have stirred
an enormous feeling of guilt without being able to solve it deeply. I remember
another instance. A nurse at the psychiatric clinic where I worked had
to have a heart-lung transplant (a very riky operation) done after a serious
illness. At the hospital, before the operation, she was visited by various
psychiatrists, including myself. She confessed to me later, after having
come through the operation, that the person who had helped her the most
had been the priest of the hospital who had said a few words to her. Curiously,
she did not believe in religion; perhaps there are moments when one is
faced with a wall, when one has no time for psychological trivialities,
and when one has to move on to another dimension.

It would be good if, from time to time, the therapists questioned themselves.
I do not mean the kind of meeting held between group of therapists with
their supervisors, where the main aim is the discussion of technical details
between people who have the same kind of work and who basically agree from
the beginning. I am referring to a more fundamental questioning, face to
face with oneself : what is this normality that I propose as ideal for
my patients, and which, perhaps, I propose for myself? Am I, on my part,
doing anything towards my own evolution? Is it good to employ the same
methods of evolution for myself and for my patients, who are quite disturbed
to begin with? The therapist will, in this way, be able to measure the
distance between the average and ideal norms better and, with practice
on himself, he can go from the average norm which he is supposed to conform
to, being a therapist, to the ideal norm towards which everyone is supposed
to be directed according to traditional psychology. Even if such reflection
does not fundamentally change his therapeutic techniques, it will improve
their clarity and change their perpective by giving them an opening, which
in itself is quite valuable.

The idea of death, which is destructive for the depressive, is liberating
for the philosopher or the mystic. ãTo philosophize is to learn
how to dieä, said Socrates. Zen recommends ãviewing life from
the bottom of ones coffin.ä When Nisargadatta Maharaj was asked about
his death some months before the actual event, he replied, ãI would
not be speaking to you like this, if I were not already dead.ä This
death of the ego is what is frightening. On another occasion, when Maharaj
had evoked the idea of liberation from this life, a visitor exclaimed,
ãBut is is like death !ä ãIs is deathä, answered
Maharaj. When one is really free from the anguish. When there is nothing
more to lose, one can only be a winner.

Meditation represents a prevention, a prophylaxis for depression: returning
each day to the source of happiness that lies within, one avoids that accumulation
of inner frustration which leads to bitterness and depression, even in
those people who have everything they materially need for their happiness.
The child has strong and rapid variations of emotion. Internally we remain
childlike, although we have covered this ãinfantile cyclothymyä
with a veneer of dullness, which enables us to function in society to some
extent. We have already seen that meditation enables the recognition of
the rapid variations (desire-distaste, pleasure-pain etc.) and helps us
to go beyond these pairs of opposites (ãdvandv titamä). In
the Bible, God is sometimes clearly presented as being beyond contradictions:
ãThere is no one but me.... I create the light and the darkness,
I make happiness and unhappiness, it is I, Jehovah, who create all this.ä
(Isaie 45, 6-7). (The literal translation from Hebrew is,ä ãI
make peace and evilä).